He was far too overconfident in his abilities.

He had given her more power than he thought, more than anyone had thought. She could still feel him inside her head, but it was a voice that was calming with each passing day. Master of magnetism Mr. Eric Lehnnsher. If she ever saw him again she'd walk right up to his face and call him by his first name. After all he'd shared with her; the pain and madness and torture of war torn Europe through his own eyes, so much so that sometimes she finds her self scratching at her left forearm thinking that there are numbers printed there. After all that, she thought she'd earned the right to call him Eric. The man had enormous control over his powers; he hadn't even gone comatose after he'd touched her much to her surprise.

Still, he'd held on far too long. He's probably sitting there in his plastic prison wondering why his powers are so weak. As much as she hated that man for all he'd done, for trying to kill her and the people she'd come to care about, she felt the strange need to thank him.

One thing she'd learned in the past months as his voice commanding inside her brain faded, was that his love for what he could was not completely unfounded.

Magnetism can be fun.

And the more she thought about it, what wouldn't be fun about being completely aware of certain materials becoming...attracted. Having the ability to control that attraction. It was something she'd come to enjoy to great lengths.

She started out small. The day after Logan left she lay on her bed staring at his dog tag resting on her dresser. Having the sudden urge to feel it between her fingers she reached her hand out. To her surprise they floated right into it. It didn't scare her. After touching Logan she accidentally cut herself in the kitchen, the cut healed in a second. She was shocked then, but she understood that with mutants, powers come with life.

Her progress with Eric's talent came along slowly. She moved chairs, tools, and even once made a pyramid out of flatware. She never told anyone about it. Not Jean or Scott or Ororo. Not even the Professor, though sometimes when she was around him she would play with his wheelchair. He would look down at the wheels then back to her with raised eyebrows. He never said anything, but she could tell he knew something.

She never talked about it because she'd always assumed that one-day she'd wake up and it would be gone. That it was all just some strange dream. It didn't happen. Her progress moved onto bigger things like the lawnmower, the cars in the garage, and once during a tour of the underground levels the plane beckoned to her call.

She didn't have any mischievous intentions for her newfound gift. She'd never want to hurt anyone. Mainly she used it for fun, little parlor tricks to entertain herself. It was nice to have a mutation that didn't drain the life out of anyone.

No harm intended on anyone.

Not until Logan came back.

Eric had called it a remarkable metal. She always thought that was a strange thing to say about metal of all things. She'd never understood it. Not until the day he walked through the mansion doors, bag slung over his shoulder, brow raised as he looked around.

She understood then.

His presence made her body hum in a way she'd never felt.

It was remarkable.

It was remarkable in the way that she could feel through phantom fingers every inch of that metal coursing through his body.

It was remarkable in the way that she could finally touch him through that metal.

It was remarkable in the way that it would speak to her, whisper in her ear.

It was remarkable in that way that she could ask it to move for her.

It was remarkable in the way that she could make it move for her.

She started off slow with him, just as she had with other objects when she found that the power wasn't going to go away. She followed him around sometimes, staying just out of range of that sensitive nose of his. She savored playing with Logan as she did the other objects. She'd see him walking and suddenly stop his leg from moving. She would smile and have to bite her lip from laughing when he would scream and curse and pop his claws at an enemy that wasn't there.

Sometimes she would make him a statue. Frozen and poised in the form of some Greek god. Always watching from afar, wishing she could approach him, tell him that she could touch him; show him that she could touch him.

She could make him dance, make him fight, make him fly. Anything her heart desired.

Anything.

He never figured out it was her. He probably couldn't fathom his little Marie was the one doing this too him.

It made what she planned to do perfect. His surprise would add so much to it.

Sometimes while everyone else was asleep she would lie there on her bed, focusing all her energies on Logan. So much that she could feel his bones through her hands. She could feel the iron in his blood running through his veins. Her body was consumed with the metallic rush of his.

He still groaned in his sleep.

She could still hear him in the dead quiet of the mansion at night, even though he'd moved even further down the hall than before. His nightmare induced mumbles and moans carrying through her door, filling her eardrums, teasing her senses. She closed her eyes, imagining his hands on her, guided by her will alone. Her legs parted slightly and she could still hear him, see him, bending toward her wishes, falling to her call.

The air seemed to heat around her as she tore the sheets from her legs. While still flustered from the rising temperature of her core, she threw on the silk robe Jean had bought her. She looked over to Jubilee and Kitty still sleeping snuggly in their beds as she quietly creaked the door open and stepped into the hallway. The polished wood was cold against her feet as she tiptoed across its surface, Logan's cries growing louder as she got closer.

Standing outside his door a second she glanced up and down the hallway making sure no one would see her sneaking into his room. She turned the knob and frowned when she discovered it was locked. He never locked his door before. No matter, a simple wave of her hand and the door swung open. She walked into the room looking around the walls. They were bare but that wasn't surprising, Logan wasn't the type to personalize things. His bag was flung on a chair next to the bed and his jacket was hung off the back. He slept shirtless to which she took a few moments to admire.

Her eyes fell closed as his skeleton sang to her once more. She swayed her hips slightly, moving gracefully to the hum. She stepped closer, her hand spidering its invisible force across his chest and gently causing it to rise toward her. His head lulled back, still asleep. He still moaned his "no's" and growls of past pain and she couldn't help but smile at the sight of it.

He was such a beautiful puppet.

Crawling swiftly onto the bed she moved one of his hands toward her, cupping her own just centimeters above it. Moving her hand back inch by teasing inch his claws slowly followed her magnetic pull. They crawled slowly out of his skin, small droplets of blood skimming across the knuckles. She touched them, that wonderfully soothing metal so smooth under her fingertips. She smiled. Leaning closer her lips brushed them lightly, the cold metal sending shivers down her spine. He groaned again but didn't wake. Rising from the bed she pushed his claws back into his arm.

She spread her hand, causing his body to swiftly mimic the action. His eyes snapped open, darting around the room before focusing in her silk adorned form. His gaze was one of confusion, so many questions running in his mind but his mouth only forming one sound.

"Marie...?"

She closed her hand into a fist, his jaw clamping shut.

"Ssh," she said softly. "No talking."

He grunted with the force of her control, straining against it.

"Don't fight it sugar," she whispered, smiling softly.

His brow furrowed at her, lips curling in an attempt to speak. The effort came to no avail. He was caught under her thrall and there was nothing he could do about it.

She moved closer to his face, fingers lightly brushing his hairy cheeks. His head twisted to her, his eyes wide and suspecting. Giggling she leaned closer to his lips, her eyes tracing the length of them. Running her finger just above them she grinned again her eyes returning to his, seeing the questions in them.

"I bet you think this is about you," she whispered into his ear. "What have you done to deserve this? What can you do to make it stop? Asking yourself if you want it to stop."

She leaned back slightly bringing her lips within millimeters of his.

"Let me tell you something," she said breathing onto his mouth. "This isn't about you at all."

She laughed, causing a strangled groan from him still fighting against his jaw.

"This is about me Logan. About what I want, what I feel."

Her lip touched his for the briefest second.

"What I need."

His eyes were wild when she looked but up to them. He wanted her to stop she knew, but she saw something else in them. Something that told her he may not have a choice in the matter, but that he wanted it still. Wanted her. His eyes watched his arm move under her accord, slowly curling at the elbow and arching lower.

"Touch me," she said.

She could see the strain he put on himself, his veins flared with resistance. "You're so tense," she teased.

The veins submerged themselves back into the skin, signaling his submission.

"That's my boy."

His hand moved forward, fingers held in a way she thought would be pleasurable.

Gasping involuntarily with the first fingertip made contact, she leaned the slightest bit forward and Logan made another low growl in his throat. His hand slid further between her legs and she bit on her bottom lip, throwing her head back, her breath coming out in short bursts.

Logan snapped his eyes shut, not wanting to see that she was actually enjoying this, that she would actually derive pleasure from him this way. He felt the invisible strings pull on his hand more, making his fingers move faster, her moans filling his ears and driving him wild.

Gloved hands touched his shoulders, squeezing on the flesh, her fingertips lightly clawing at him.

"Look..." she gasped. "Look at me."

Eyelids opened slowly, his sight first falling on his hand trapped between her thighs, fingers working furiously through the soft material she covered herself with. Her hips arched around them, swaying with the motion, pushing into him. They traveled slowly up her petite waist, to her heaving chest, to her lips gently nipped on by her teeth. Finally his gaze fell on her eyes.

What he saw in them scared him. Some about Marie actually scared him.

Desire was the only thing reflected in the brown orbs. There was no remorse in them, nothing to tell him that she was under some kind of spell. Nothing of a second nature about it. It was all her doing this.

"Logan," she moaned. "I..."

His body flew toward her, his ribs feeling like they were being pulled apart. Then her hands were in his hair, gripping at the black strands. So close yet so far.

"Marie..." he managed to strangle out of his throat.

His plea went unheard, and he could only feel helpless as his body, his hand, worked against him, worked for her.

Her hands tightened around his head and as her writhing increased on his fingers, she was close. Very close.

Her breath was hot against his ear as it bounced back onto her lips as she called his name, her hips still moving, hands still wound in his hair. She groaned louder, her breathing faster, her head tossed back once more.

She didn't gasp his name as the overwhelming sensation flowed through her body. She saw flashes of light, beautiful colors dancing on her eyelids as her muscles contracted against his fingers, the orgasm setting her free.

She leaned gasping against his chest, the silk of her robe sticking against her skin.

"Do you know how long I've wished for this?" She gasped still catching her breath. "That I could have you make me feel this way, my way."

She laughed the sound of it foreign to him.

Then he was pinned against the wall, arms stretched, legs dangling.

She stood there watching him, her head tilted slightly, running a finger through the white streak.

"Tell me Logan," she said. "Does that remarkable metal run through...everything?"

Never had she felt this in control. She enjoyed far beyond anyway she thought she would.

Logan once again struggled against her, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Her head lifted proudly when his eyes widened. When she knew he first felt it. Like his bones were liquid and swimming inside his body, just like she was commanding them too. The current of it sent him somewhere far beyond a state of consciousness. He couldn't fight it, couldn't stop it, and couldn't even comprehend it.

Marie stood there, her hand outstretched, waves of magnetic force irrupting from her fingers.

She closed her eyes and smiled to herself.

Eric had been so generous with his power.

She'd have to remember to thank him.